


The Sharpest Knife

by emanthony



Series: The Biggest Change [7]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emanthony/pseuds/emanthony
Summary: After nine years away, Killua and Alluka finally reunite with their family and friends.After a week together, Kalluto and Gon learn how to love each other.After a decade married, Illumi and Hisoka are still entirely a disaster.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Kalluto Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Kalluto Zoldyck, Hisoka & Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Series: The Biggest Change [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/268174
Comments: 55
Kudos: 361





	The Sharpest Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This story takes place immediately after the Youngest Child, and may not make a lot of sense if you haven't read the previous parts.
> 
> I have an original webcomic over on [oakantony.com](https://oakantony.com) and an accompanying [Patreon](https://patreon.com/oakantony), too.
> 
> You can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/oakantony), [Instagram](https://instagram.com/oakantony), and even [YouTube](https://youtube.com/c/oakantony), where I post vlogs and info about my creative processes.

“What day is today?” Killua asked absently, looking at his digital watch, vividly blue eyes catching on the morning light as he tried to wake up for the day.

“It’s Wednesday,” said Alluka in response, her head buried in the fridge, seeking something in the back. “August nineteenth.”

Killua hummed. August nineteenth? That had a familiarity--

Ah. A distant pain blossomed in his gut as he remembered why.

At some point in the last nine years he spent in the safety of another plane, Killua accepted that he would never go a single day without thinking about his family or about Gon. They were all embedded in his heart, in a place he could never cut out of himself--though he tried. Often. 

He bloodied himself over and over again by fighting nearly to the death, hoping the pain of a beating would knock the memories from him once and for all. Hoping that letting loose his feral, bloodthirsty training would override any feeling of nostalgia he had for “home.” Fighting as a vigilante alongside other heroes was an escape that seemed fitting for his abilities, even if it didn't pay well, and was technically outlawed in the city that he called home.

Fighting never worked. If nothing else, the blood thirst served only to remind him where he came from, and why he was living in this alternate plane with his little sister.

Alluka didn’t seem to have the same issue. She woke up every morning in their airy flat, billowing dresses floating around her happy, carefree form, and went about her free life unencumbered by the past. Killua envied it. 

Sort of.

He didn’t  _ want _ to forget Gon, but remembering him always led to an ache between his ribs, like an old wound that didn’t heal correctly. He also didn’t want to forget Illumi, Milluki, or Kalluto. Or his parents. They meant something to him--

Even after all these years, Killua’s greatest weakness was his enormous capacity for love. 

The rest of his family had the emotions associated with love beaten out of them by age two. It was something every other Zoldyck had to re-learn, if they could; if they wanted to. But Killua? He loved, endlessly. Which meant he missed his first home, on some level, all the time.

“It’s Kalluto’s birthday,” he mumbled into his mug of coffee, seated at the high counter in his and Alluka’s kitchen. He hated himself for remembering.

“Hm? Is it really?” Alluka spun around, her dazzling smile catching the morning light. “I hope he’s doing well. Did you want to go to the park today?”

Killua smiled behind his mug. “I have to work.”

Alluka’s smile dropped. “At the school? Again? You don’t  _ have _ to to work there. You choose to.”

“I like my job,” Killua said, shrugging.

“I don’t get how you can like that dumb, boring job. You don’t even need it. We have everything we need. And Nanika can give us anything else that’s missing, you know.”

Killua rolled his eyes. “It’s not boring to me. It’s interesting. And fun. And the kids remind me of you when you were little. You used to be so precious.”

“Used to be?!” Alluka slapped her hands upon the counter and puffed out her cheeks, brows narrowed close. “I beg your pardon.”

Killua laughed, standing up, and patted her atop the head, where her high ponytail sat secured in a pink striped ribbon. She had grown up stunning--and yes, quite cute, still. With her enormous blue eyes and soft round face, she was arguably the most attractive Zoldyck. And with her remarkable otherworldly power, she was arguably the strongest.

Killua would never understand how his parents didn’t appreciate Alluka for the gift she was. He was lucky to have gotten to steal her away, to a place they could both grow up happy and free. He shrugged, nonchalant, and said, “I liked when you were small enough for me to carry around.”

Alluka scoffed. “Don’t act like you could carry around a cement truck if you wanted. I’d be practically a feather on the wind to you.”

Killua laughed as he deposited his coffee mug into the sink. It was true. “I’ll see you after work.”

* * *

“You’re so cool, Mr. Kill!”

Killua laughed. “That wasn’t very hard.”

The children that surrounded him pressed in closer. “Do it again!” Their pleas and tiny fists rang up into the afternoon air.

He swung the baseball bat, catching it on the edge of his fingers and flipping it in the air. “Alright, but you have to back up.”

The kids squealed in delight, fumbling away. They were between the ages of six and eight--more capable than the toddler class, but just as eager to cling to Killua when they got the chance. 

“Toss me a ball,” he called out to one kid, who threw it overhand. Killua caught it with one hand not holding the bat and grinned. “Thanks.” And, just like he had done before, he tossed the ball into the air, snapped back the bat, and struck the ball as it fell. The crack sound echoed through the open field and the ball zipped away, wind gusting, until it glinted far in the distant sky.

Tiny cries of excitement rang out from the audience of school children. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll show you how. Everyone, grab a bat, and line up!”

He worked part time as an athletics coach at a school for gifted kids. Had been for five years, in fact; helping raise the newest generation of magically-gifted youngsters into well-rounded athletes. Most of the time, he spent his time having mindless fun with the class--the kids needed a break from the school’s strict regimen of superpower training and academics. He really liked the younger kids the most. Their bright-eyes and earnest praise helped fill a void he, himself, had caused inside his own heart. Between his vigilante work and his teaching, he almost felt normal.

“Everyone ready?” he called out. “Bats up!”

“Osu,” said the students.

He thought of Wing, and it hurt, but in a good way.

* * *

August turned to September and Killua readied himself for the autumn semester of school--a new wardrobe, some fun tapes to watch on rainy days--

He bounced around his and Alluka’s flat, notebook in hand, going over the lesson plans he had to submit to the academy, when there came a knock at the front door.

He strode over to the door and pulled it open without looking; a benefit of being 6’4 and built like a lean martial artist was that he didn’t worry much about feeling safe at home. He relished in opportunities to fight; he opened his front door without concern about who would be on the other side.

But he wouldn’t be fighting today.

No, on the other side of the door there stood a beautiful young man, with stunning pink eyes, a small button nose, and full lips nervously bitten. His face was familiar and foreign at once, but his hair--

Killua would recognize the hair alone. Illumi, Milluki, Alluka, and Kalluto were all blessed with the deepest black hair, thick and straight, beautiful even when unkempt. 

“Hi, Killuni.” 

The air was gone from the room. Killua’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t move--or think. Killuni. _Killuni._

And before Killua could manage to reply, his little brother--Kalluto--said, “Mother is dead. Father is incapacitated. Illumi is wed. Milluki has a son. And I love Gon.” Kalluto smiled, and it was so foreign, and it squeezed at Killua’s heart like an actual vice. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Kalluto smile, and god, it’d been nine years--he barely looked like himself now, all grown. “Will you come home now?”

Killua forced himself to blink. Blink. And breathe. “Hi, Kalluto.”

His smile got brighter, somehow. It hurt to look at--so finally, Killua looked away. “That was a lot to drop on a guy, you know. Come in. Let’s start, uh, from...”

Did he say mother was dead? Did he say--what about Illumi? Did he mention Gon? He hadn't managed to catch everything Kalluto said, a white noise roaring in his mind at the sudden appearance of his youngest brother.

One thing had stood out, though: “What do you mean Milluki has a _son_?” Sure, it’d been nearly a decade, but Killua couldn’t imagine someone sleeping with that piece of shit. Someone had his kid? _Willingly?_ “What?”

Kalluto stepped inside the flat and Killua closed the door. He seemed to vibrate with excitement before reaching out and placing a hand very gently, almost hesitantly, upon Killua’s arm. “It is you. You’re real.”

Killua tried not to let the knife twist too deep. “Yeah.”

Kalluto stepped back and looked into the flat and whistled. “This place is nice.” It was an open-concept industrial loft, with enormous ceilings and windows all along the restored brick. Along the back there were two closed-off bedrooms and a single bath. The place was pretty tidy--Alluka was essentially a hoarder, but a very organized one. Shelves were organized with boxes, all labelled, and their soft, well-worn furniture looked clean and loved all at once.

“Yeah. Uh--so--”

Kalluto spun back around from where he began wandering the space, looking at the trinkets and collectibles stacked on metal bookcases. “Right, yeah. Milluki got married. They had a kid a month ago. He’s really cute. He looks kind of like you.” Kalluto tilted his head, hair framing his angled jaw. “White haired, too.”

“Oh. Good for him.”

This was surreal. Killua felt like he was walking in a dream. He blinked a few more times. 

“Why are you here?”

“You know, I thought, for a long time, that I was a specialist. But every test I did--blood tests, that water test, other nen masters--everything said I was a manipulator. Like Illuni, you know?” Killua opened his mouth to reply and stopped short. Kalluto shrugged. “Well, they’re all wrong, because I am a specialist, after all. I could see you. In my mind, when I thought of you. I felt this beacon, and I looked at a map, and I knew where it was coming from. I was pretty sure I was right--” Kalluto laughed once and then looked off, out into the expansive living room. “I was wondering if you wanted to come say hi to everyone.”

Killua took a step forward. “It’s not a good idea, is it?”

Kalluto turned to look at him. “They’ve never stopped looking for you.” Nausea gripped Killua so suddenly that he nearly doubled over from it-- “But if you don’t want to go, that’s okay. I won’t tell. I’m very good at secrets.” Kalluto smiled again, and Killua had the impression he smiled a lot more these days. “I quite like having them, actually. I collect them. Like trophies.”

“Did you say mom...was…”

“She died. Um--recently. Illumi--did it. She attacked me and he...” Kalluto said. “She--” For the first time since appearing on Killua’s doorstep, Kalluto looked lost for words. Killua let the silence grow--let Kalluto gather his thoughts. “She tried to make me her doll. So Illumi…”

God, his mom was dead. Killua placed a hand over his heart as it twisted in his chest. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Kalluto started to unravel the dusty scarf he had wrapped around his shoulders. “Which part?”

“Illumi wouldn’t kill mom.”

Kalluto met Killua’s eyes. “He would for me.” 

What _happened_ in the last nine years? A small part of Killua breathed in relief that Kalluto had someone to protect him. Even if his image of Illumi didn’t match one of a caring big brother. “You’ve kept your hair the same,” Killua mumbled. “I’m not sure I would have recognized you otherwise. You’re so big.” Pause. “Well, you’re still small, actually, but...bigger.” He was shorter than Alluka, even. Kalluto took after gramps, apparently.

Kalluto reached up to comb a hand through his short bob, almost self-consciously, and Killua wondered if maybe he hit a sore spot. “I’m not that short. I’m just surrounded by giants all the time.”

“I see.”

“So, do you want to come say hi?”

“I--”

The front door burst open and Alluka strode into the apartment, humming, a basket of flowers at her side. She made it halfway to the living room before she realized she wasn’t alone. “Oh.” She stopped, spun to face Killua and Kalluto, and then tilted her head. “Who’s this?”

“I’m--” Kalluto took a hesitant step forward. “I’m your younger brother, Kalluto.”

Alluka’s eyes snapped to Killua in question. She didn’t ask aloud, but Killua was able to read her expression clearly: _is it okay that he’s here? Do I need to take care of him?_

She’d taken care of people in the past. People _from_ their past.  They had made very sure that no one would find them there.  “It’s okay,” Killua said. “He won’t tell.”

Kalluto nodded, stepping forward. “I won’t. Pinky promise.”

Alluka turned to Kalluto and held out her hand. “Alright, then.”

Kalluto looked at her hand and tilted one arched brow.

“Pinky promise,” she said.

Kalluto reached out and hooked pinkies with her, and their thumbs touched. “I swear.” As they dropped their hands, Kalluto laughed quietly to himself.

“What?”

“I think that’s the first time we’ve ever spoken, sis.”

Alluka took a step forward and grinned. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“Some family, huh,” mumbled Killua.

The three lapsed into silence for a moment.

“I’m going to head out,” Kalluto said. “I shouldn’t be gone for too long anyway; someone will notice. But if you want to come say hi--” He produced a card seemingly out of thin air, and if Killua hadn’t known better, he would think Hisoka, that pervert magician, taught Kalluto how to do it with that perfect, sparkling flourish. But that was silly; he was just feeling nostalgic for the wildness of his youth. Kalluto probably didn’t even know who Hisoka was. Kalluto took a step forward. “Call me, Killua. You too, Alluka. The world back there--it’s different now. Really.”

“We’d have a lot to catch up on, I guess,” said Killua. He took the card between his fingers and tried to remember all the stuff Kalluto rambled off. “Milluki and Illumi are...married? To actual humans? Willing human people? Are you _sure?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“Weird. Are _you_ married?”

Kalluto snorted. “I’m only nineteen. No. Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you were so much younger than me,” said Alluka. “Why did I think we were only a year apart?”

“Probably because our mother and father did their best to isolate you from the rest of us,” Kalluto said. “They won’t be a problem now, anyway." He met eyes with Killua, who nodded in understanding. He'd fill Alluka in on the sudden death of their mom. Kalluto sighed, sliding a hand through his hair. "Just--think about it. It’s okay by me, either way.” Kalluto hesitated before adding, “Gon would be happy to see you. Both of you.”

Alluka clapped. “Gon! Oh, yes, Gon. I _miss_ him. He was such a good friend to us.”

“We’ll think about it and call you,” Killua replied, the low tenor of his voice even, despite the gaping wound in his heart. 

Kalluto left, and Killua forgot to finish his lesson plans that night. Alluka prepped a comforting meal, and didn't bring up the subject of visiting home. Killua knew that she'd do whatever he chose. 

That made the decision much more difficult.

* * *

“Take your pants off.”

“No.”

Kalluto stomped his foot. “Take your pants off, Gon.”

Gon shuffled backwards and held out a hand to keep his distance. “No. We’re not going to do this.”

“That’s stupid. You want me. I want you. We’re living together. It’s been _a week_. I want to have sex already.”

“We’re not going to.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Killua gets home in like, twelve hours.”

“What, and that’s not enough time? You really think you can go twelve hours?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He paused. “I probably could, though.”

Kalluto groaned in agony. “Please?”

“I... No. I can’t fuck his brother and then look him in the eye hours later, not after nine years apart. We’ve waited like, over a month. We can wait another day. Just one more day.”

Kalluto’s scoff made Gon cringe and step back again. “So you’ll fuck his brother hours _ after  _ seeing him for the first time in nine years, but not hours before. There’s no logic in that.”

Gon’s brow furrowed in thought. He raised a hand to his chin. “You have a point.”

Thank god. Oh, _thank god._

Gon nodded and punched one fist into the palm of his other hand, a determined look coming over his honey-gold eyes. “We probably shouldn’t have sex for another week or two.”

“I’m going to literally murder you. Here. Now.” And if he could travel back in time, Kalluto would murder himself, too, for ever inviting Killua back into their lives. It’d only taken him a day to call and set a time for him to visit Yorkshin City. Kalluto told everyone, on a high, and had expected  _ some _ consequences.

He hadn’t expected Gon refusing to fuck him as one of them.

After Illumi’s daring rescue, Kalluto moved in with Gon in his small house in the suburbs of Yorkshin--a sudden but very welcome change--but the two hadn’t had the opportunity to properly have sex. Gon’s work schedule was intense, especially after his three week sabbatical during the summer, and in the week they lived together, he was only home long enough to grab some rest before sleepily grinding himself and Kalluto to orgasm each morning. 

It was driving Kalluto insane to be so close to the subject of his most intricate fantasies ever, with zero promise of consummating a damn thing.

“I want you so much,” Kalluto said, voice quiet. “You don’t--” He didn’t want to say it aloud, but he had to know. “You don’t want me?”

Gon leveled Kalluto with a glowing, focused stare so intense that Kalluto felt himself frozen in some type of fear, anticipation--excitement. “No, I want you.”  Kalluto forgot to breathe. It was difficult to do anything when scrutinized like that; the way Gon’s brows pinched down, the hard line of his teeth, the tense shape of his shoulders.  “That’s not what I’m saying when I say we shouldn’t. But there’s this big thing happening. Soon. And it’s going to weigh on me. And you. Isn’t it?”

Killua’s handsome, adult face filled Kalluto’s mind. He swallowed hard. And nodded once.

“Then we’ll wait.”

“Your voice is hot,” Kalluto mumbled dumbly, eyes struggling to focus on anything other than Gon’s handsome, angular face.

Gon’s intensity broke into laughter. “Really?”

Kalluto bit his lip to keep from laughing too. “Yeah.” They fell into silence for a moment before Kalluto said, “Fine. Can you kiss me at least?”

“Yeah,” Gon said, closing the distance between them in two strides. He slid his hands onto either side of Kalluto’s head and pressed their lips together. His mouth was warm and soft and insistent and giving all at once. He was an incredible kisser, Kalluto noted clinically. He had this way of focusing on Kalluto’s every single reaction that made him seem almost psychic. The slightest tilt of his head, the flex of his fingers, the way he exhaled--Gon matched every tiny motion so perfectly that it was almost unfair.

With a dick that big, he really didn’t need to be that good at kissing, and yet--he was the best kisser Kalluto had ever encountered, and Kalluto had a sizable demographic for comparison.

Gon stepped back, finally, but only far enough to break their kiss. He took a breath and dropped his forehead so that their noses nearly touched. “You taste really good,” he mumbled. 

“You can’t talk to me like that right now,” Kalluto moaned, fingers sliding up to Gon’s biceps and gripping the firm muscle. 

Gon groaned and pulled away. “I know. I’m going to go stay with Leorio tonight.”

“Really?” Kalluto bit his lip. “You don’t have to.”

Gon’s eyes roamed down Kalluto’s body and back up again. “Yeah, I do.”

Kalluto sighed. And wanted to stamp his foot again. And rip off his clothes. And possibly kill a man. “Fine.”

They didn’t say much else as Gon packed a bag over the next half-hour. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to Kalluto, placing an infuriatingly chaste, loving kiss upon his cheek.

“Get out of here,” Kalluto grumbled.

* * *

“Did you forget something?” Kalluto said as he answered the call.

Gon laughed into the phone, shifting into his relaxed spot on Leorio's sofa. “No. I just--I’m laying here on Leorio’s couch and I--” He sighed. “Missed you, or something.”

“You saw me two hours ago.”

“It feels weird to not have you sleeping next to me.”

Kalluto laughed this time. “We’ve only been sharing a bed for a week.”

“Still,” Gon said, stubborn, and earnest. He meant it; Kalluto was warm and quiet and smelled so good and there was something so great about having him at arm’s reach each night. Not just sexually. Just--generally. “I was just calling to say goodnight.”

“Already?”

Gon shrugged, despite Kalluto not being able to see. “Leorio’s already gone to sleep. And it’s late anyway. You’re staying up?”

“I probably won’t be able to sleep much. I’m so--” Kalluto was quiet, and Gon could picture him biting his lip as he found the words, “Tense.”

He meant sexually. Gon knew. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s not your fault.” A pause. “It sort of is. But my fingers aren’t thick enough and I don’t have any of my toys here, so I feel so--” He trailed off with a frustrated groan.

Gon felt heat rush through him. “Toys? Like--” His mind filtered through an array of adult items, but he couldn’t pick out one in particular. “You use that stuff?”

Gon could hear the shifting of bedsheets and knew Kalluto was in their bed. Probably undressed. He spent a lot of time naked. “Yeah. I like coming with my hole filled.”

“Kallu,” Gon stage-whispered, sitting up from where he was on the couch, cock suddenly rushing to half-mast. He hadn’t called for _this_ \--genuinely. He just wanted to hear Kalluto’s voice before he went to sleep. Phone sex was not part of the plan.

“You asked,” Kalluto said, voice a little breathless. “It’s not like they feel as good as the real thing, but if I can’t get fucked, I use them. There’s this one that’s bigger than most men, anyway, so even if I can’t get laid, I can get stretched out. It makes up for it, being that big.”

Gon sucked in a breath as his dick went marble hard at the vision he had of Kalluto tangled in bed, his black hair stuck to his face in sweat, and fanned across a pillow, hand gripping the base of an enormous cock, pushing it into himself with shaking arms. 

“And stamina’s not an issue with a fake cock, either. I can fuck myself for hours.” 

“Oh,” Gon replied, unable to find any other--more insightful--words.

“You’re about the same size as my biggest, though,” Kalluto sighed. “I’ve never been fucked by someone with a cock like yours. Then again, size might not matter. You could be pretty bad at it for all I know.”

Gon’s grip on his phone tightened as he felt his body rush with desire. “I’m good at it,” he said. He wasn't even saying it to boast, or out of some sort of pride. It was an honest fact; he'd been very thorough in making sure every partner he'd ever had was satisfied. That was more than half the fun of sex.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Gon,” Kalluto’s voice had gone all hot and quiet. “Are you hard?”

Gon couldn’t contain his groan. He looked down at his body from where he was resting shirtless on the couch, his cock tented in the soft fabric of his sweatpants. A wet spot had already begun to form at the front, darkening the heather gray in front. “Yeah. I’ve already made the front of my pants damp.”

Kalluto’s gasp echoed between Gon’s ears. “Are you touching yourself?”

“No,” Gon replied honestly.

“I am,” he said, quietly. His breath hitched and Gon could picture his hand tightening around his shaft, long, thin fingers sliding up himself as he spoke. “I wish I could come on your cock.”

Gon pressed the heel of his free hand against the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to do this out in Leorio’s living room, where he could walk through at any minute--for the bathroom, or to grab a drink of water-- “Kalluto, god.”

“You’re not gonna jerk yourself off?” Kalluto asked.

“I can’t,” Gon said, voice cracking as he continued to speak quietly. “I’m in Leorio’s apartment and he's like, six feet away through that door--”

“Oh, yeah,” Kalluto said. “You’re just going to have to sit there and listen to me come, huh?”

“No,” Gon whispered, body gone tense. “I can’t--”

“You could have been here, cock in my hole.” Kalluto cried out, and began to pant. “Instead I’ve got three fingers in me, and they’re not big enough.” He began to gasp in rhythm, and Gon knew he was fucking himself, phone on the pillow beside him. 

Gon's throat was dry as he asked, “Three fingers already?”

“I’ve already come once since you left.”

“Oh. I didn’t know,” Gon grit his jaw, waves of lust coursing through him unrestrained, like he was standing in the midst of a storm.

“You’ve thought about it, right? How you want me? I’ve been thinking about it all night. On my hands and knees?” Kalluto’s breath hitched. “My face in the pillow, gripping your sheets?”

“No, I want to see you,” Gon said, his voice gravelly and tight. “I want to see your face when I come in you.”

“You do?”

Gon’s thighs clenched and unclenched, cock dribbling with precum so hard that he could feel it sliding between his legs. “I’ve never come inside someone before.” He’d only ever slept with partners that could get pregnant--and not being ready to be a father--he’d pulled out. Every time. 

“Fuck, oh--fuck,” Kalluto gasped. “You’re gonna come in me, though.”

Gon didn’t recognize his voice as he begged, “Please.”

“Yeah, you can. Fuck, you _will_. I want your cum in me,” Kalluto’s voice had gotten high, tinny. “I could come without you even touching me, if you fuck me like that, raw--” He would hold Kalluto down, feral with need, and pump him full--

Gon’s hips jerked of their own accord, humping nothing, and he squeezed his eyes shut as the animal part of him wanted pressure--release-- "Please,” he begged again.

“I’m coming,” said Kalluto, and Gon heard him cry out, distantly, knowing he’d arched his back as he did, away from where he’d dropped the phone on the pillow. “Gon,” he said, “Gon, yes-- Gon.”

Sweat slid from Gon’s hair down his neck, into the cushions beneath him. Fuck, he wanted to come, he wanted to--

Kalluto picked up the phone again, breathless. “Gon?”

“Yeah, baby,” Gon replied, panting from the effort to stay still, to keep himself from breaking. 

“You still can’t come, huh?”

“I--” His thoughts ran wild. He could go to the bathroom; jerk into the toilet. “I’m--”

“Too bad you’re not here, huh? It’s almost unfair. Well. See you tomorrow.”

Click.

Gon froze.

That little fucking _asshole_.  Gon said aloud, to the empty room, as impressed as he was horny: “He did that on purpose.”

**Author's Note:**

> ily! Talk soon!
> 
> \- [oak](https://oakantony.com)


End file.
